


Spontaneous Utterances & Hopeful Wishes

by afteriwake



Series: Almost Like A Fairytale [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Caretaker Molly Hooper, Cohabitation, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Mycroft Holmes/Molly Hooper, Established Mycroft Holmes/Molly Hooper, Estranged Sherlock Holmes, F/M, Gentle Kissing, Molly Hooper Loves Mycroft Holmes, Molly's Thoughts, Mycroft Holmes Loves Molly Hooper, POV Molly Hooper, Sick Character, Sick Mycroft, Sickfic, Spontaneous Utterances, kissing on the cheek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-03-23
Packaged: 2019-11-28 23:55:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18215366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: Mycroft makes a spontaneous utterance as Molly takes care of him.





	Spontaneous Utterances & Hopeful Wishes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dreamin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/gifts).



> **Dreamin** asked for a Mollcroft fic starting with the sentence “ _I’m going to take care of you, okay?_ ” and I decided to put it in this series.

“I’m going to take care of you, okay?” Molly laughed as Mycroft coughed in response. “If that’s a critique of my medical skills...”

“No, it’s an involuntary reaction to this cold,” he grumbled, rolling over to his side. Molly sat on the bed next to him, reaching over to feel his forehead with the underside of her wrist. “I do have a perfectly functioning thermometer.”

“I know, but this is faster, and it tells me you’re warm so you need water.” She straightened up and then reached over for the pitcher of water by her side of the bed and a glass. “Drink up, Mycroft. You can’t work until you’re better, Andrea already said so, and I know you want to get to those trade reports so you can figure out how to tweak them to Britain’s advantage.”

“When there’s an idiot in the Oval Office it’s not hard,” he said, taking the glass before coughing. “But you’re right. I would rather do it sooner than later.”

“Well, while you drink that and get more rest, I’ll start making chicken soup. With low-fat stock and plenty of vegetables and some wild rice and not noodles, I promise.”

“Marry me,” he said before drinking the water.

“Are you serious or are you just in awe that I love you enough to take care of you?” she asked gently, running her fingers through what hair she could as he was on his side.

“I’m...not entirely sure how serious an offer that is,” he admitted. “I do know I prefer it when you’re here or I’m at your residence. I don’t like being alone anymore. And...you care. More than you need to.”

“You moron, I love you,” Molly said, leaning over and kissing his cheek. “Why don’t we start a few steps under marriage. Let’s start with cohabitation. I can move in here if you’ll make space for my things. And if you promise to redecorate the kitchen to my tastes. I’m sorry, but yours is simply too barren.”

He felt a warmth take hold of him that he knew had nothing to do with fever and set his glass down before reaching for her hand, kissing her palm. “Done,” he said. “Now you should go before you get sick.”

“Oh, if I get sick I expect you to wait on me hand and foot,” she said with a soft laugh before pulling up his covers and patting them for a moment before she left. She had known it wasn’t an entirely serious utterance, even as he said it, and that’s why she wasn’t shocked. He was sick and she was caring for him and of _course_ he’d say something like that. But moving in...she’d rather wanted that herself, for a time. She liked it best when they shared a meal and a bed and an evening together. She liked running her morning routine just after he’d started his, and sometimes at the same time when he dozed a little longer until her alarm went off.

She loved him, plain and simple.

The only thing that would make it better was Sherlock’s approval. They had Mycroft’s mother and father’s blessing, which was a lot, but still. With this development in her relationship with Mycroft, she wanted a bit more from Sherlock. Would she get it? She had no clue. But it would be nice, at some point in the future, for her to have his acceptance that she loved Mycroft and that his brother would rather die than hurt her.

Maybe one day, perhaps.


End file.
